Witch Deduction
by Scribblers Burrow
Summary: Sherlock tries to deduce the strange incidences surrounding John and Mary's daughter Sam.


Witch Deduction

The first incident was brushed off; sort of.

John was positive it was only the wind that blew bouquet of colourful flowers in the direction of five year old Samantha; it was coincidence they landed right in her awaiting hands. Sherlock insisted that there was no wind, and proceeded to inspect the high shelf it had descended from. He gave up his inspection only to harass the poor sails man who had the misfortune of manning the counter.

It took John twenty minutes to persuade him that the incident was just one of life's little mysteries and no the shop keeper did not rig the shelf to launch flowers at unsuspecting customers.

He was however cheating his way out of taxes. Sherlock called New Scotland Yard just to spite him.

Through all these events Samantha Watson was content with changing all the boring lilies to match the colourful flowers in her hands.

The incidences became more frequent after that. John continued to brush them off, Sherlock continued deducing them, and Mary started researching magic. As a result she was forced to endure even more of Sherlock's (rude, John informed him) remarks than usual.

Samantha soon became Sam, John was reminded of when Harriet became Harry, and Sherlock continued to peruse his human experimentation. No matter how much he denied it John knew that training her in the science of deduction was an experiment on the capacity of the normal human brain. Sometimes he wondered if some of Sherlock's experimentation had something to do with all the strange incidences that seemed to surround Sam.

"It wasn't my fault!" Sam once again insisted. "He was going to beat up Marcus! I only meant to push him away a little bit, he flew the rest of the way on his own!"

John rubbed to bridge of his nose while giving a disbelieving snort. "Flew all the way back into the side of the school and concussed himself did he?"

"Yes."

"Samantha! This is serious; you could have caused lasting damage. Do you understand that? You can't slam people into walls!" Seeing her about to argue he raised his hand, "Even if he was going to hurt someone else."

"Ah yes, I commend you on your ability to teach your child such hypocritical morals John, well done," Sherlock's deep voice came from behind them.

If John weren't so used to Sherlock popping up out of god knows where he might have jumped. "You stay out of this, I don't remember inviting you along. Aren't you supposed to be sulking back at your flat?"

"I do not sulk!" Sherlock said, sounding very much offended, even though it was and age old argument.

"Yes, you do" John and Sam said in a tone that came from years of dealing with Sherlock.

Sniffing disdainfully Sherlock marched forward. "I was inspecting the area in which the alleged crime was perpetrated."

"So you know it wasn't me? See I told you dad!" Samantha already had that smug look on her face that only came with Sherlock proving her right.

"That remains to be seen," Sherlock interrupted what would have been the worlds logiest I told you so, "the evidence was inconclusive."

The last part was said in a quieter tone that was reserved for any of Sam's unsolvable incidences.

Sam glowered at him and John resisted the urge to role his eyes.

Of course John knew the issue wasn't dropped, it was never dropped. Sherlock may not mention it but John knew he hadn't given up on solving the great mystery that was Samantha Watson. Sherlock was now convinced that she was somehow behind most of the incidences.

John supposed he should be worried that it was likely the only reason Sherlock liked Sam so much was because she was an unsolvable puzzle. Really, he just couldn't muster the energy; he had other things to worry about, like Sam's eleventh birthday party. How the hell was he supposed to substitute a sports day in the back yard for extreme sports?

As luck would have it, he needn't have worried about it.

* * *

The knock at the door came on the day of Sam's actual birthday, the Thursday morning before the weekend they were going to have the party. Both John and Mary had been planning to work that day, but the Surgery had called and said John wasn't needed as they had more doctors than were needed. Thinking nothing was amiss, John shrugged and concentrated on getting Sam up in the hopes she wouldn't be late.

Before he could make it up the stairs the phone rage again. This time it was the school, informing the parents that there was a suspected gas leak and all classes were cancelled until further notice. John was left feeling slightly alarmed after that discussion, but he was a Doctor and he hadn't notice any ill effects from Sam so it was probably nothing to worry about.

Only a few minutes later Mary walked back inside saying she had gotten a call from work saying they didn't need her that day either. John half expected Sherlock to walk in complaining that all the crime in London had ceased just to infuriate him.

Miraculously he didn't hear from Sherlock at all, and it appeared that he would be left to a rare morning alone with his wife and daughter, on her birthday no less.

A knock at the door blew that right out of the water at precisely 10am. When John opened the door a man with sandy blond hair in a plane red dress shirt and black trousers' was standing on there step.

"John Watson?" The man asked.

"Yes that's me," John answered warily. One never knew who could be at the door with Sherlock Holmes as a friend.

The man looked slightly relived. "Oh good, um, is your wife and daughter home? Samantha Mary Watson?"

John was instantly on his guard. "That depends, who are you and why do you know my daughter's name."

The man flushed before straitening his stance and replying, "Forgive me, I'm Neville Longbottom, Professor Longbottom, and I have some startling news about your daughter."

* * *

John sat stark still in the sofa in their living room. Samantha was bouncing in her seat beside him, and Mary was wearing a disbelieving but smug look on her face on the other side of Sam.

"Head of Gryffindor, what does that mean?" John asked the apparent wizard sitting in the chare across from them.

"Hogwarts is divided into four houses, each take in students with the qualities they most represent. Gryffindor is for the brave, Ravenclaw for the intelligent, Hufflepuff for the hard working, and Slytherin the cunning. Each house has a head Professor, when I was in Hogwarts I was in Gryffindor."

It sounded like a speech he had rehearsed many times before. John wondered how many other families he had visited this year.

"And you come brake the news to each family on their kids eleventh birthday?" John asked.

"Oh no," Neville replied shaking his head," It's only necessary for the muggle borns, seeing as you don't know about magic and all, but those with magical parents just get a letter on their eleventh birthday, like the one Samantha is holding," he motioned to the parchment now crumpled against Sam's chest.

"It's Sam," his daughter snapped out of habit.

The wizard momentarily looked flustered, "Oh right, excuse me Sam." He grinned at her and she smiled back widely. John couldn't remember seeing her look so happy about something in a while.

"Where do we get everything on this list?" It seemed that Mary had finally extracted the letter from Sam's death grip and was looking it over.

"Oh I'll be taking you all to Diagon ally today to show you around and make sure to get everything you need," Neville replied.

Seeing multiple looks of confusion he went on to explain the hidden shopping ally while John risked a glance to the doorway that he was confident Sherlock was hiding around. If this was a hoax, Sherlock would be sure to unravel it.

* * *

Hours later the four of them walked back out of the Leaky Cauldron, three of which were still stunned by everything they had just witnessed.

Neville had bid them farewell and had just barley gotten around the corner when Sherlock appeared beside them looking worse than he usually did when he was board.

"Every time I try to walk in I end of turning around and walking away without even realising it!" he exploded at them. "I don't even remember turning around and walking way, I just end up over there before I come to my senses." He was waving his hands in wiled gestures while pacing around them and looking like he was ready to run over anyone who dared to get in his path.

As he raged, because there was no other word for it, Mary looked like she was gearing up for the ultimate I told you so taunt. This was something Sam got from her.

Quick to intervene, John grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders hauled him away; Mary and Sam trailed behind.

"Shut up! They erase people's memories for knowing about this stuff you know," he glared at the overgrown child.

"Obviously, or they wouldn't have succeeded in keeping it a secret for so long. I waited for Professor Longbottom leave before coming to you. But this is impossible! Mycroft is behind this, he'll be laughing at me in his office right now!" He said, as if magic's existence was all his brothers' fault.

"You know magic has been around for _century's_, I doubt your brother has that much of a hand in keeping in a secret," Mary said, carful to emphasise centuries so Sherlock wouldn't miss how right she had been.

Sherlock took a moment to look properly scandalised at her for daring to be right about something as impossible as magic.

Sam took this opportunity to bring out her wand and poke Sherlock in the side with it. He started when sparks flew out the end, but recovered quickly and made to snatch it from her. Giggling Sam took off running and Sherlock, ever the child, went after her. His impossibly long legs allowed him to catch up quickly enough. Sam had inherited John's unfortunate lack of height rather than her mother's average.

Mary looked happy to watch them John being the only responsible adult, went to confiscate to wand before they got into trouble.

As it turns out Mycroft had known about the existence of magic, and even that Sam was a witch. This only fuelled the never ending war of the Holmes. Mary found it all endlessly amusing and never let Sherlock forget that she deduced something his brother knew before he did.

Sherlock finally had to admit to Sam being an ongoing experiment as he was using her to study everything he could about magic. He'll never admit to asking Mycroft to fix it so he could keep his memory and have access to the more magical parts of society.

Sam ended up in Gryffindor, although she had happily told them in her first letter that she was almost a hat stall. Apparently the magical sorting hat had trouble deciding if she made a better Hufflepuff, or even a Ravenclaw. She also claimed that the hat would have put her in Slytherin if she hadn't been muggle born.

John wasn't sure if she got _that _aspect of her personality from Mary or Sherlock. It was probably a mix of both.

* * *

Hello wonderful readers!

I have a few more Sherlock/Harry Potter fusion ideas so, all set in different universes, so if you liked this be on the lookout for more. Reviews make me happy, and if you have any ideas for improvement I would be happy to hear them.

~Mel~


End file.
